


ice ice baby

by formidablehedgehog



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hockey, College Hockey, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multi, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formidablehedgehog/pseuds/formidablehedgehog
Summary: the college hockey au that literally no one asked for
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24





	ice ice baby

**Author's Note:**

> Whooo, I'm finally posting something I've written! Apologies in advance for whatever mistakes I've made with the quotation marks; I'm just bad at them and don't know how to fix it. Also, please ignore any factual inaccuracies about hockey; all of my knowledge of it comes from other hockey aus that I've read and an adorable webcomic called "Check, Please". With that in mind, here's an explainer for the terminology in this chapter:  
> D-man: defense man  
> Wearing the 'A': is alternate captain  
> chirping: hockey word for teasing/ making fun of  
> lax: lacrosse (college lacrosse players and college hockey players often have some kind of rivalry)
> 
> hope you like it!

Two weeks before the start of classes, Luke is already fully moved in to his dorm room, which, honestly, hadn’t entailed much beyond wrestling a fitted sheet on to his sorry excuse for a mattress and shoving all his clothes under the bed (since half the closet is taken up by his hockey duffel and he can’t be bothered to get up and organize all his shit to fit into the other half). 

He’s beyond thankful that he had managed to snag a single, knowing that having to be subjected to his hockey schedule would be, at best, annoying, to any potential roommates, and, at worst, the spark for a life-long hatred that ends in Luke getting brutally murdered as revenge for all of the lost sleep. 

He’d briefly considered requesting one of his new teammates, Calum Hood, to be his roommate, since they’d met at a training camp two years ago and hit it off pretty well, but Calum had apologetically told him that he was already locked into another living situation. When Luke had asked what he meant, Calum told him that the coaches were forcing him to room with some guy named Michael Clifford, since he and Calum apparently have a long-standing rivalry and that “wouldn’t be conducive to a functional team environment”. 

Calum had also used the word “well-documented” to describe his and Michael’s rivalry, so Luke couldn’t help googling “calum hood and michael clifford” to see what the deal actually was. The way he understood it, the two were from the same town and had grown up playing together, but ended up going to rival boarding schools and subsequently started getting into dirtier and dirtier fights on the ice. He’d even found a few video compilations of the two on the ice, trading hits and looking ridiculous. Based on what he’d seen, being roommates was going to be a shitshow for them. 

Since only freshmen were required to live on campus, the rest of the team all seemed to live in a shared apartment/ pseudo-frat house that he vaguely remembered someone referring to as the Hab. He assumes it’s a reference to how many players from Pembrook Men’s Hockey eventually end up playing for the Montreal Canadiens, who were known as the “Habs” to those involved enough in hockey to care; hockey players weren’t usually the most creative with their nicknaming efforts. It was for this reason that every team Luke had played for in his life had ended up calling him “Hemmo”. 

He and the other freshmen on the team are supposed to meet up at the dining hall half an hour before the rest of team shows up for breakfast, in order for them to all introduce themselves to each other, so Luke finally heaves himself up from where he had been attempting to dissolve into the bed, hoping that he still remembers the way to the dining hall. 

On his way down the hallway and towards the stairs, he hears someone yell, “DID YOU PUT HAIR DYE IN MY SHAMPOO?” and winces in sympathy. The door to the bathroom flies open, and someone shoots out, sprinting for dear life. They’re being followed by another pers-

Oh, shit. 

The person doing the chasing is Calum. Which means that the person being chased is Michael Clifford. 

His living situation just got much more interesting. 

Figuring that it’s a good idea to intervene before the team ends up down a player before the season even starts, Luke yells, “Hey, Hoodie!” 

At that, Calum turns and Michael flashes Luke a quick thumbs up and mouths “thank you” before disappearing into the stairwell. 

“Oh, dude, look who it is! Fuck, Hemmo, how the hell are you even taller than the last time I saw you?” 

“No fucking clue, dude. Genetics or some shit, probably. Thank God I’m not a bio major.” 

As they talk, Calum starts moving towards what Luke assumes is the direction of the dining hall, so he follows, thankful that he doesn’t have to risk getting lost again. “ ‘S good to see you man. So what is your major, then? Mine is psych,” Calum replies. 

Luke responds with, “Right now, I’m undeclared in engineering, but I’ll probably end up going for mechanical engineering. Need something to make bank if the whole hockey thing doesn’t work out, you know?” 

“Duuude, engineering and full-time hockey? Don’t know what you and Dickface were thinking.”

“Dickface?” Luke asks, although he’s 99% sure Calum’s talking about Michael Clifford.

“Yeah, the asshole roommate I told you about, Michael Clifford. Hockey bros always end up calling him ‘Cliffo’, so that’s probably more useful to you. He’s doing software engineering.” 

“Huh, interesting. What was the deal with the hair dye a few minutes ago?”

At that, Calum rolls his eyes so hard that Luke’s genuinely concerned about Calum’s surprising level of nerve elasticity, and says, “That idiot put orange hair dye into my shampoo, even though my hair is fucking black and there’s no way it would have shown up. All it did was stain my hands.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, and they’ve finally made it to the dining hall, which is entirely empty, other than the aforementioned Dickface, whose eyes hold absolutely no fear. Instead, he looks almost smug, like he’s challenging Calum to make a scene in front of Luke and the two guys who are walking in. Luke assumes they’re the other two freshmen joining the team. 

The taller and broader of the two, who Luke almost immediately recognizes as the D-man who knocked into one of his high school teammates hard enough to give him a concussion, introduces himself as Mehmet Onder, or Ondzy. The guy next to him, who doesn’t seem familiar at all, shakes all of their hands individually and doesn’t bother with his actual name, only introducing himself as Deens. Hockey nicknames always take superiority over actual names, so Luke isn’t particularly bothered by the omission. 

Deens seems to also recognize that the other four people at the table have at least some level of familiarity with each other, and offers the explanation of, “I’m from Minnesota, what about you guys?” 

“Maine, right on the border of Canada,” Luke replies. 

Calum and Michael say “Massachusetts” in unison and glare at each other right after.

Ondzy says, “New Hampshire, although I played for a club team in Vermont for a while.” 

Deens looks amused at that, “New England is so fucking weird, bro. If I wanted to play in another state, I’d spend a minimum of six hours driving, and that’s just one way. You fuckers can just sit your ass down in a car and show up in another state before the seat warmers finish heating up.” 

Given the fact that Deens isn’t entirely wrong, no one says anything to disagree. 

Their options for food are limited, since the only people on campus right now are other athletes, so the process of actually getting the food doesn’t take as long as expected, and they’re all almost done eating when the rest of the team arrives. There are introductions all around, and fuck, Luke’s gotta learn a bunch of names and faces really fast. He’s easily able to remember O’Hara, since he was the one who showed Luke around campus last spring and is now the captain of the team. Apparently, O’Hara goes by Moose, which is a bit strange, but Luke rolls with it. 

The other person Luke’s able to remember is Ashton Irwin, who’ll be wearing the ‘A’ for the season, which means he’s either a hell of a player, a hell of a good teammate, or both. He also has the misfortune of having the nickname Winnie, although most of the team seems to call him Ash. Luke thinks it’s a shame; Ashton’s sunshiney personality and smile work perfectly with the cartoon bear’s name. 

Moose makes some joke about eating eggs, and the whole team, except for the freshmen, bursts into laughter. The five of them look at each other confusedly for a solid two minutes while the rest of the team continues running with the joke and loudly laughing; Ashton gives in first and starts explaining, “So, we’re the Penguins, yeah? We’ve always called the first-year players ‘chicks’, but since the season hasn’t actually started, someone decided that we’d call you ‘eggs’. Since, like, you haven’t hatched yet, or whatever.”

Someone (that Luke thinks is named, or at least nicknamed, Farmer) yells across the table, “It’s funnier because of Ash’s egg-shaped head!” 

Ashton turns back around, with a threatening smile on his face. “Farmer,” he says, and Luke can guess what he’s about to say before he actually says it, “you’re on dish duty for the next week.” 

Farmer’s face falls and he groans “Fuuuuuuckkkk” while Ashton starts laughing maniacally. Luke finds himself thinking that it’s cute, both Ashton’s laugh and the way he responds to a little bit of chirping. 

When people start getting up to leave, Moose and Ashton tell him to hang back for a minute, which sends Luke’s stomach plummeting to below the ground.  
How the fuck has he done something wrong already? The season hasn’t even started!

As if sensing Luke’s panic, Ashton tells him to calm down, before gesturing for Moose to continue. 

“So, Hemmo, you play goalie, right?” 

Luke nods in response. 

Moose holds his hand out for a fist bump and says, “Hell yeah, dude. Goalie bros for life. So, here’s the deal. It’s obviously good for us to have a backup goalie in case I ever get hurt or shit, but since I’m still able to play, you probably won’t get as much ice time. We considered having you switch positions for the year, but, as it turns out, I’m able to graduate a semester early, so we’ll definitely need you as goalie for spring semester. Since you won’t be getting a ton of goalie time during games and we can only spend a little bit of time shooting pucks at you during practice, you’re going to need extra practice to make sure you stay in good, goal-saving shape. That’s where Ash comes in.”

Ashton says, “Yeah, since Moose is going to be busy with his thesis this semester, he doesn’t have a ton of time to spare for extra, one-on-one practices. Luckily for you, I, as a completely stress-free junior, have loads of time. So, we’ll figure out a schedule that works for both of us, and I’ll be in charge of making sure none of your goal-saving skill is washed away by the lack of playing time. Your phone number is already in the GroupMe, right?”

Luke nods again, and realizing that he probably looks like a bobblehead, says, “Yeah, but I can just type it into your phone if you don’t want to have to scroll all the way back up.” 

Moose claps them both on the back and leaves while Ashton is pulling his phone out and giving it to Luke. 

Putting his own contact name as “Luke” feels oddly… intimate, which is definitely at odds with the fact that he’s only known Ashton for an hour. He’s gotten so used to his hockey teammates knowing him as Hemmo, and his friends and family knowing him as Luke, that voluntarily mixing the two worlds, even if it is just for his contact name in someone else’s phone, feels strange. 

Luke is used to ignoring the mini existential crises his brain loves to give him at the most inopportune moments, so, for now, he ignores the thought and gives Ashton his phone back. 

Ashton smiles at him again and is about to leave when he notices the apprehension on Luke’s face. “Do you... not know how to get back to your dorm?” he asks, and Luke’s beyond grateful that he won’t have to ask for the help himself, since that’s never been something he’s particularly good at. 

“Ummm… not entirely, no,” he responds, feeling his face heat up.

“Dude, you wouldn’t believe how often I got lost as a freshman. Like, I couldn’t even find my way to the rink by myself for at least two weeks. What building are you in?” 

“Hill. It’s kind of far, so, like, you can just tell me where to go; you don’t have to come with.” 

“No, no, now I’m invested. What if one of the lax kids sees you wandering around and decides to take you hostage as leverage over us? Can’t have that.” Ashton turns around and starts walking backwards, while continuing to talk, and it’s honestly pretty impressive. 

When they finally reach Luke’s dorm building, he realizes he had been too involved in the conversation to pay attention to the route they were taking, and so, he still has no idea how to get back and forth between the dining hall and his building. He doesn’t think that’s something Ashton needs to know, though, so Luke thanks him and Ashton heads off towards the Hab. 

When he’s unlocking his door, he hears a blood-curdling scream and gets the most intense deja vu of his life when Calum sprints past him, pursued by Michael. 

The screams are nearly incoherent, but he's able to make out “FAVORITE HAT” and “WON’T WASH OUT.” 

Seems like the tables have turned on Michael. Luke sees two options for himself; he can either try to mediate the situation between the two, or he can just stand back and observe the all-out war that he imagines is about to start. Well, Luke’s never been one to give up free entertainment, and the kitchen for this floor is well-stocked with popcorn.

**Author's Note:**

> since this is the first fic I've ever posted, feedback would be super appreciated! thanks for reading :)


End file.
